Chapter 12

12

W hen Eben fully awoke again, he was alone in his bed.

There was a bulging waterskin beside him, and the sack of fruit appeared to have been replenished — and he had vague memories of Efterar speaking to him, touching his back, pouring bottles of Eben’s own tonic down his throat.

If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep you here resting for a few days, Ka -esh , Efterar’s voice had said. It feels like you haven’t slept in a week, and you need the time to heal. You’ve done more than enough work lately.

Eben had been too exhausted to argue, though he did recall searching for Tryggr , and finding a fresh trace of his scent, as if he’d recently been in the room. And it had been enough to lull Eben back to sleep again, sinking into the memories of it, the faint sweet taste of Tryggr on his tongue.

And even now, as Eben carefully shoved himself up in his bed, drawing in a slow breath, he could still taste Tryggr . Could still taste that distinct Skai sweetness not only on his lips, but in his own scent, in his flesh, embedded stark and powerful beneath his very skin.

He’d sucked off a Skai . A Skai .

Even the thought of it swarmed heat up Eben’s spine, and deep into his already-swelling groin. Good . Real good. Ach , you’ve got a tight, hot little mouth, don’t you? You like having it filled with a good Skai prick?

Fuck . It was as though Tryggr had struck straight to Eben’s deepest, most fundamental cravings, without even the slightest effort. The easy commands. The praise. The claws in his hair, on his neck. The way Tryggr had looked, the way he’d gasped. As if, in that moment, he’d truly wanted Eben . As if he’d… cared.

But Tryggr wasn’t here… now. He hadn’t… stayed. But in truth, why would he? Because he’d only done that for Eben’s health, right? There had been no other commitments, no agreements between them whatsoever — and even if Tryggr had found pleasure in it, that didn’t mean anything, did it? That never meant anything, not among their kin, and especially not among the Skai . Never trust a Skai .

That thought hitched uncomfortably in Eben’s chest, and he forced himself up and out of bed, staggering on shaky legs over to the nearby latrine. Where he washed up all over, brushing and braiding his hair, before dressing in a fresh tunic and trousers, and finally heading up to the sickroom.

His heartbeat pounded louder as he went, his traitorous breaths inhaling slow and deep. Seeking any hints of Tryggr’s scent in the adjacent corridors or rooms, any suggestions he might have recently come this way — but there was no fresh trace of him, not in the Ka -esh wing, or the Grisk . Or — Eben couldn’t deny the miserable plunge in his belly as he hesitated in the doorway — the sickroom.

Kesst and Alma weren’t in the sickroom, either — or Salvi , due to his trip north. There was only Efterar , working on the other side of the room, and a variety of new Bautul and Skai patients, no doubt from that vicious brawl in the arena. Which now must have been multiple days ago, and Eben’s scattering thoughts were fixed on the memory of Tryggr pinning that Skai orc down, sliding so easy inside him —

“ Good to see you up again, Ka -esh,” interrupted a familiar voice, and Eben blinked at where Efterar was now striding over, his eyes still red and heavy with exhaustion. “ Feeling better, I hope?”

Eben nodded, and cleared his throat. “ Yes , much better, thank you,” he replied thickly. “ It was good of you to come and see me.”

Efterar waved it away, even as he reached around, and hovered his hand up and down over Eben’s back. “ Glad to help,” he said. “ Though you should still take it easy over the next week or two. Cut down your time working in here, and rest . Also ” — he grimaced, as Eben felt a distinctive prickle in one of the mostly healed cuts — “ I’m sorry I didn’t catch your absence sooner. That Skai was very unimpressed with me.”

There was an apologetic half-smile on his face, and Eben’s heart pounded faster, a hot shudder streaking up his spine. “ Have you — seen Tryggr ?” he asked, before he could stop himself. “ Or scented him, since then?”

Curse him, what was he saying, or betraying, but Efterar surely knew, Efterar had watched him desperately sucking Tryggr’s prick, hadn’t he? But thankfully, Efterar hadn’t seemed to notice anything unusual about Eben’s question, and he gave a distracted-looking shrug, his focus still fixed on Eben’s back.

“ Ach , he’s been by a few times,” he replied absently. “ Recently tore a knee ligament, fighting in the arena.”

Wait . Wait . Eben’s body had suddenly turned to ice, his hands clenching, his eyes staring at nothing. Tryggr had already gone back to that arena. To do what Skai often did, he’d said, when they wished for release. To do, perhaps, what Eben had witnessed him doing the other day, laughing and snapping his teeth as he’d sunk deep inside…

But curse it, even if Tryggr had fucked a dozen orcs since then, what right did Eben have to care? He knew it hadn’t meant anything. He knew . Tryggr was clearly a kind, considerate orc, who made a point of helping those in need. So when Eben had been in need, Tryggr had done what he could to help. And then he’d had every right to move on with his life, with his activities, and his pleasures.

And that was all. That had to be all. It hadn’t meant anything. Never trust a Skai .

But it made for another long, lonely, empty day. And though Eben threw himself into work — briefing himself on all the new patients, updating their charts, refreshing bandages, prescribing and preparing and distributing tonic and herbs as needed — it didn’t seem to help, or to keep his brain from wheeling back toward Tryggr again and again. It hadn’t meant anything, it hadn’t…

Eben worked late into the night again, his exhaustion growing heavier and heavier with every breath. And when a trace of a succulent, overpowering scent flared into his nostrils, he didn’t even look up. Just kept crushing his herbs, squeezing his eyes shut, he was exhausted and imagining things, and that was all —

“ Aren’t you s’posed to be resting, Ka -esh?” asked a voice, low, familiar, far too close. And when Eben’s eyes snapped open, it was — Tryggr . Tryggr , standing here beside his workbench, and looking at him.

Eben nearly dropped the pestle he’d been holding — Tryggr was here — but somehow he caught it again, and set it down with a clatter. “ Oh ,” he croaked, and he couldn’t help his inhale, dragging in the sweet, stunning scent swarming through the air. “ I — I did rest. A lot.”

Tryggr cocked a brow, as a wry smile pulled at his mouth. “ Thing about resting, though,” he said, “is that you gotta keep doing it, Ka -esh.”

His voice was mild, but Eben could still feel the faint twinge of reprimand beneath it, and he couldn’t suppress his reflexive wince, or his fervent, awkward nod. While Tryggr just kept looking at him, shifting on his feet, something moving in his eyes that Eben couldn’t at all read.

“ Healing all right, though?” Tryggr asked now, a little gruff. “ An ’ you haven’t gone back for any more ruts or lashings, have you?”

Eben winced again, and gripped his shaky, sweaty hands at the solid wood of the workbench. “ N -no,” he gulped. “ N -not yet.”

And wait, why had he said that, it sounded like he was planning to go back to the dyflissa — was he? — and he shook his head, opened his mouth. But nothing came out, and Tryggr’s eyes shifted again, his arms smoothly folding over his chest.

“ Well , take it easy in there next time, ach?” he said coolly. “ Not much relief if it brings you real harm, is it? An ’ keeps you running back for more?”

Eben’s wince felt like a flinch this time, and he couldn’t help his reflexive glance downwards, toward Tryggr’s legs. Because Efterar had said he’d torn a ligament fighting in the arena, hadn’t he? And yes, yes, Tryggr was clearly favouring his left knee, betraying a faint hiss as he again shifted on his feet.

“ M -mayhap I could say the — the same,” Eben’s hoarse voice stammered. “ About the — the arena.”

And curse him, curse him, because that was disbelief flaring across Tryggr’s eyes, followed by a sudden, dark disapproval. “ Not the same, Ka -esh,” he snapped. “ The arena’s part of my job . We train to keep kin like you Ka -esh safe . To help you.”

Oh . Part of his job, helping orcs like Eben . Weak orcs, Tryggr meant, foolish orcs, orcs who got themselves needlessly injured in the dyflissa , and therefore required impromptu feedings for their health. And of course it didn’t mean anything, it had never meant anything, Eben had been dreaming, delirious, never trust a Skai …

“ I know,” he finally whispered, his voice cracking, his prickling eyes dropping to the workbench, to the mess of herbs he’d somehow made upon it. “ I am s-sorry, sir.”

There was a moment’s brief, horrible silence, during which Eben’s lip began badly quivering, betraying him, no, no, no. And he was about to abandon it all, to rush past Tryggr to the door, when something grasped his arm. Something — oh. Tryggr’s hand.

Eben’s fearful eyes darted up, blinking at where Tryggr was grimacing, and running his other hand against his hair. “ No need to apologize, Ka -esh,” he said, a little rushed. “ Didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just” — he grimaced again, shook his head — “ I busted this knee in there the other day, and it’s making me ornery, ach? Boss took me off duty scouting, and he’s had me resting and doing rubbish jobs ever since. Says starting tomorrow, he’s putting me to work helping his woman in the scullery instead. Doing laundry and shit.”

Wait . Amidst all this, Eben had almost entirely forgotten about Alma and her plight — and she hadn’t shown up in the sickroom all day, had she? Was that because — she’d gone to work in the scullery? And Drafli was now sending Tryggr to help her? Doing laundry ?!

“ Is Alma — well?” Eben asked, his voice a croak. “ Well enough to be — doing laundry?”

Tryggr shot Eben a look he couldn’t all read, and then abruptly released his grip on Eben’s arm. “ Guess so,” he said, without enthusiasm. “ Though I s’pose I’ll be the one to keep an eye on her again to make sure, ach?”

Right . Because that was Tryggr’s job, and that was all. Keeping weak kin safe. To the point where Drafli had ordered him to do it, and…

“ And Drafli still truly wishes to… help Alma ?” Eben asked, before he could stop it. “ And have her… stay?”

His tired brain was belatedly dredging up the last he’d heard about this, when Tryggr had suggested that Drafli might make Alma an offer, to keep her close and safe. And Tryggr twitched a nod, though something sharp and strangely bitter flared through his scent, and his eyes shifted past Eben , narrowing on the wall behind his head.

“ Ach , Boss made her the offer,” Tryggr said flatly. “ Got her a room of her own in the Grisk wing, gave her plenty of goods and credits — and then he took her to bed with him and his mate, too. Covered her all over with their scents, made sure she found joy in it.”

Wait . Truly ? Drafli had taken Alma to bed ? With him, and Baldr ? After he’d tried to kill her?

But Tryggr’s face looked a little mulish, now, his nod decisive and firm. And blinking at him, Eben’s longing was suddenly far too close, surging hard in his belly. Because what would it be like, to have a fierce, handsome Skai watching over you, giving you gifts, taking you to bed, making sure you found joy in it…

Tryggr was fully frowning now, his claws tapping at his biceps, his scent even sharper than before. And too late Eben realized he was just foolishly standing there staring, and reeking of hunger, or perhaps even jealousy.

“ But ,” he croaked, before he even caught it, “ Drafli still does not even… like Alma , ach? Or truly want her, in his bed, with his mate? Not after how she has come between him and Baldr , with the scent-bond?”

But Tryggr’s frown only deepened, and he jerked a dismissive-looking shrug. “ It hasn’t been the best start, I ken,” he said flatly. “ But I’m told the woman’s sweet and loyal, and a hard worker — and eager to please and obey in bed, too. All just as Skai like best, ach? So if she can keep it up, show Boss she’s worth his time, I ken he’ll come around.”

Oh . Oh . Sweet , and loyal. A hard worker. Eager to please and obey in bed. All just as Skai like best …

Eben’s heart was erratically pounding again, his eyes still frozen on Tryggr’s face. On where Tryggr’s frown twisted, tightened, as he jerked a swift, limping step backwards. “ Well , glad you’re feeling better, Ka -esh,” he said. “ Best of luck with — not sleeping, I s’pose.”

With that, he spun and strode for the door, his shoulders very straight, his steps lurching with his limp. And it wasn’t until he’d vanished into the corridor that Eben realized it, recognized part of what had held him so caught, so transfixed, so foolish, that entire time.

Tryggr hadn’t borne any other fresh scents. Not even after so many days, after he’d returned to the arena.

Tryggr had only scented of… Eben .